Alex emerged from the lake, her white fur flattened and glistening under the rays of the sun. She dove in once more and swam towards the shore, trying to stretch out the feeling of the cool liquid against her body as much as she could before inevitably moving back to the dry land once again.

The pair had stayed in the oasis for about three days, but it felt much longer. So much longer. Finally having some peace and quiet, away from all the troubles offered by the desert, they almost felt like starting a new life here. Almost.

“Come on, Alex! Get a move on!" Vinnie yelled, still lying on his back under the shade of a mango tree. “We're losing daylight."

“We ain't got anything but daylight, Vinnie!" the wolf yelled back as she crawled onto the shore. “It'd be a nice change of pace if travelled by night."

“Nothing good ever happens when you travel by night." He answered stoically, moving the hat from his eyes and throwing a cigarette at his companion.

“I can't say I know what you mean." She said, grabbing the cigarette mid-aid and then grabbing the following lighter.

“Mostly bad luck. At least that's what I've been told."

“You reckon that's why we have him on our ass?" Alex motioned towards the tied up rat under the tree, a pair of socks stuck in his mouth.

“I reckon…" Vinnie took a long drag from his fag. “…that we have him on our ass because of our naturally mischievous and outlawish personas."

“What are gonna do with him?"

“I don't want to take him with us. I'm tired of his speeches. Besides, he will eat into our mango supplies. I'm not having that."

“We have been forcefeeding him a bit too many mangos recently." Alex said, scratching her chin. “But we can't let him go."

“No..." Vinnie crushed out his cigarette and walked towards their hostage, pulling out his knife.

Although slightly nervous, Alex calmly eyed the situation.

“Listen…Lance…" Vinnie began, examining his knife. “Here's the deal. We can't exactly take you with us. Nor can we just let you go. And I don't really feel like slitting your throat. So here's the deal."

He grabbed the knife and threw it as far as he could.

“I'll leave you that knife over there. I'm sure you're more than capable of crawling there and cutting your ropes. But by the time you're done, we should be living the high life in Komarburg. And just to show you there's no ill-will, we'll even leave your hand here. What do you say?"

Vincent carefully and thoughtfully listened to the unintelligible, muffled ramblings of his hostage. He believed to have understood the basic gist of his speech – about eighty percent warrior-poetry and twenty percent agreement. Or disagreement. It didn't really matter all that much.

“You ready to get going?" Vincent asked as he patted hostage on the head.

“Ready when you are."

#

  “The desert holds many secrets. And amidst those secret, there are many dangers. One can easily be engulfed by the treacherous sands, the harsh winds or the inferno of the sun. Still, there are even worse things lurk in this hellscape. Greater evils, not always known. Treachery, deceit, betrayals, lies. The list goes on. One should never turn their back on any shadow that they happen upon. The snakes in the sand are far less venomous that the snakes in the heart. For there is little hope for those who wonder. Not all who wonder are lost, people say. Those people have never lived the life of a dissident."

 “Please, Lance, I think they got it."

Lance narrowed his eyes. He threw his new knife in the air, grabbing it by the handle and quickly cut Alex's ropes. The wolf got up, massaging her wrists.

“Can't believe you managed to take them all out."

“The shadows can be your dearest friend in these times of trouble. Closer than a lover. For in the shadow we hide…"

“Yes, yes…"  

  Alex looked around. 5 lizards were tied together around a tree. The sun was already setting.

“How long was I out?"

“Long enough."

“What exactly happened?"

“As with any follower of the vagabond path, you and your ally were ready to leave this slice of paradise and go forth to your calling across the sand dunes. But vicissitude always strikes when the mind is damp. The venomous deeds of you and Steng, that toxified the innocent people of Dustville finally festered. Apparently they thought I was taking too long, so they decided to get the job done on their own. While still fixing up your sandrail, they snuck up behind you, like shadows in darkness. It was brutal. One of them simply turned you around struck your abdomen, hard enough to lift you on his fist. I could almost hear his fist hitting your spine as you gasped for air which never came. Your eyes like saucers and your mouth like Hell's gate, you stood there, impaled, the fearsome warrior slain in one hit. After that, Steng was no match for them. So little and puny, they completely humiliated him by just grabbing him a throwing him into a sack."

“Mmm…" she murmured uncomfortably.

“Can't really blame them. As a dissident, my life is at the mercy of the winds, thrown from on corner of this world to the next, no clear goal nor destination. Fate guides me, but fate is an ally, for when fate…"

“Right, right, right." She cut him off. “Still…why did you help me?"

“Simple really…" he began and stopped, taking a heavy sight before managing to muster up the words. “Honour. I was honour-bound. In all my years as a dissident, I've never seen such compassion from my foes. After being defeated, you did not slay me nor torture me. You fed me your food and were willing to grant me my freedom. Steng might be a low-life, but he has a heart of gold and a soul of silver. A no man like him would dare fraternize with wickedness, so I'm sure his friendship in you is well placed, like the cooling lake amidst the oasis of the barren life…"

“Fine, fine." She interrupted him once again. “I get it. You like people who force-feed you mangos."

“I wouldn't put it so bluntly, but in a sense, yes, the fruit of life filled my stomach with it's nectar…"

“Shush."

“Did you just tell me to shush?"

“I said “shush"! I'm trying to think!"

“What's there to think about?"

Alex didn't answer. She looked around. The attackers were knocked out. The sandrail was in disrepair.

“They didn't find the money?"

“Nope. They just ran off with your partner. My guess – they didn't even know there was money. They were hired to get Streng and only Streng. That's why they only knocked you out."

Alex walked up to the sandrail, closely examining the vehicle.

“I don't have time to fix this." She motioned to the engine that had been eviscerated and left on the sand, the tires which had been slashed and the magneto stator, for which they went through so much and now was lying in pieces.

“We can use my bike."

“You've got a bike?"

“Sure. How else do you think I got here? Sometimes, the sandcycle can be the only friend a true dissident finds in these times of…"

“Please, we have to hurry."

Apart from more poetic tangents, it didn't take long for the duo to get a move on, with Lance's sandcycle being well hidden in a small cave relatively close to the oasis. A thing of beauty the sandcycle, a motorcycle adapted for the desert terrain, using specialize wheels with the appropriate desert chains, the seat made of tweet to resist the harsh heat, darkened rear-view mirrors to minimize unwanted reflection, handlebars fit for the rat's stature, a well handmade desert camouflage for the gastank and both fenders and, naturally, a crude drawing of a naked angel-rattess hanging in place of the registration plate.

“Great. Give me the keys." Alex said in a hurry to try out the vehicle.

“Not gonna happen, wolf." Lance answered coldly.

“We're saving my friend, so I get to drive the hog."

“You see…a man's cycle is like his woman."

“Oh? And how's that?"

“Heh…it's simple really. She's there in the lonely nights, when riding alone, her delicate purr the only company you need. She needs to be taken care of and she'll be your closest ally. And you don't just let anyone touch her. A motorcycle breathes when you are out of air-running in the this harsh land of terror and fear, where only a dissident can thrive with a will of iron and thunder conjured up…"

“Fine, fine. Just. Please stop talking."

“Hmm…you ain't good company I tell you that. Hop on and let's ride. Time to save a scum bag with a golden heart."

The bike flew through the cave, leaving behind it a trail sand and fume. Lance, gripping the handlebar tightly, determination in his eyes and a bloody vendetta on his mind and Alex, a lit cigarette in her mouth, holding onto the back fender and looking excessively silly while riding on a motorcycle a few size too small for her.

#

“Dustville…we meet once again." Lance said with a heavy sigh as the pair rode through the town. “How I wish it were under different circumstances…"

Alex rolled her eyes. She slowly adopted that habit throughout their trip.

Dustville loomed ahead, it's streets empty under the setting sun.

“Where is everybody?" the wolf asked, scratching her head.

“Either on a holy pilgrimage out north…" Lance began “…or high on hallucinogenic mold in their basements."

“Heh?"

“It's a holiday for the lizard folk. Their head north towards the mountains of Drusalka, where they engage in holy dances and the consumption of sacred fungi. Those who can't join, usually stay in their basements and honour the holiday in solitude."

“So…you are saying…that we might be at the wrong place?"

“Correct. We are heading to the mountain."

“Are we sure that Vinnie will be there?"

“He ain't gonna be here, that's for sure."

“Shouldn't we at least check?"

“Ain't got the time, wolfie." Lance said revving his bike. “This is a life and death situation. And I know that the lizardfolk around these parts are very religious. Worshipping their cloud gods, desert demons and cactus spirits. People need something to believe in and magical creatures is as good as any belief. Me? I believe in the honor as the true path of the warrior and that's the only ballad I sing. For treachery and deceit are false prophets and when you let betrayals and lies coil up inside your soul to lay their eggs and hatch their progeny, they fester inside you like…"

#

“…for there is no true sun, less the one in your heart that shines through the darkness. You feel me, wolf?"

“Mhm." She murmured.

Alex had long stopped listening to the rat, rather preferring to think of a plan of action for when they reach Vinnie. Jumping at the snatchers head on wouldn't usually be an appropriate tactic, but considering they were most likely high as balls, counting stars, it didn't seem like that much of a stretch to get it done.

“There…" Lance spoke, his finger raised at the distance.

Amidst the darkness of the horizon, there was a small sanctuary of dancing light. The feint echo of rhythmic drumming travelled on the wind. Alex lit her cigarette.

“You think he's still alive?" she said with a low tone.

“They want justice. Not butchery."

“How can you tell?"

“There is a reason I took the job. The folks at Dustiville are the kind…"

“Alright. Let's just go."

Lance revved up the bike and fired down the sandy dunes.

“You know…it'd be real dumb if it turns out he was in the village all along."

“It would. But he isn't."

“How exactly can you be so sure?" She asked, throwing away the finished fag.

“A dissident knows." Lance said.

A slide guitar pierced the night.

#

Drums. Didgeridoos. Guitars. Music. Hypnotic rhythms filled the night as bodies swayed back and forth in a delirious daze, mumbling, rambling, screaming and laughing. Alex carefully side-stepped around every wriggling lizard, while Lance just pushed through, unphased by the display around him.

“Keep your wits about you." He said in a stern, yet fatherly voice. “Inhibitions are low and you never know when someone might act up.

Alex nodded absentmindedly, taking her time examining the scene around her. Her nods slowly changed from those of agreement to ones of musical appreciation. Her body would bounce to the beat as the duo went further into the mass of people.

“Are we looking for something specific or just waiting for them to show up?" Alex asked.

Lance didn't answer, instead he pointed his finger towards an elevated platform where lizard folk in strange masks danced to the beat of a drum circle. In the middle of it, tied to a spike, was Vincent, unmoving.

“He's been put on center stage."

“Not on my watch…" Alex murmured and ran forward.

“Wolf! Wait!" Lance shouted, but he lost her amidst the swirling bodies. “Guess I gotta prepare for the worst case scenario…"

#

She ran as fast as she could. She ran through bodies, convulsing to strange rhythms, through smoke from fires and grasses, through liquids both organic and not. She climbed up the rocks, clawing her way across the stones until she reached the band. She quickly hurried through the drummers and jumped onto the elevation, making her way straight to Vincent.

Before she could start tearing his ropes she felt the heavy body of one of the lizards fall unto her, grabbing her. Without much thought and acting on pure instinct she kneeled down and pushed up with all her might, her muscles almost tearing themselves apart and she flipped herself. For one reason or another, the lizard held on and fold himself on his back, the shock of his body hitting solid stone loosening his grip on the wolf.

The moment she got up, two more lizards grabbed her. And a third and a fourth. She raged and howled and spat, but she couldn't break free.

“Well, well, well…who do we have here?" an old familiar voice rang out from amidst the cacophony.

“Zan…" Alex growled, bearing her teeth.

The lizard, bathed in unearthly glows, walked towards the captive, kneeling low, looking her in the eye.

“The nightwalker. I can barely believe my eyes. Come here to save your friend?"

Alex snapped her teeth at Zan, but he quickly pulled away. He smirked as he gave her a little slap.

“Feisty, aren't we?"

“Fuck you, lizard!"

“Such language. My, oh my." He snickered at her.

Zan stood up, gloating above the wolf. He turned his head towards Vincent and then back at her.

“Do you wanna know what's happening here?" he asked, pointing at the rat with his thumb. “We aren't going to execute him, if that's your worry. You see…" he kneeled down at the wolf “…we are civilized people here. We don't just…execute people. It just so happened that it's a bit of a holiday here. And it's traditional for us, if we have any prisoners, to offer them to the spirits of the mountain. Nothing too special. We give him some mushroom wine and we put him up on a stake. If something special happens, I don't personally know what, the shamans do all the soothsaying, we let them go. If not…well…he will await trial. Standard stuff."

Alex tried to pull herself free, but the lizards pinned her down. Zan scratched his chin. He got up and walked away. Alex followed him with her gaze as he talked with another lizard, covered necklaces, feathers and wearing a wooden mask. After a minute or so, Zan came back.

“I think we can arrange something."

#

“My brothers and sisters! Welcome to Duhavna! Make merry and let the spirits wash you clean of your sins! This year, as with previous years, we have a prisoner! And the shamans have decided that a miraculous act has occurred! The prisoner, who has cheated and robbed you of your money, has received a savior! The treacherous nightwalker and bloodtooth of the west! Alex! But to win the freedom of her friend, the moonbeast has to face off once again with our champion! Zan of Blacksand!"

Zan stepped nude onto the makeshift ring, waving at the adoring public. He looked towards the opposite corner, where Alex, naked, laid in chains.

“Before the match starts, they shall both partake in the nectar of Drhuga as it is our tradition!"

Another, much smaller lizard stepped into the ring, handing Zan a goblet, from which the wrestler drank hungrily. Another lizard went up to Alex and as two larger, muscular bodyguards held her jaw open, he poured the nectar into her mouth. She tried to spit it out, but couldn't. The liquid torrented into her throat leaving behind the taste of honey, peppermint and mushrooms.

When the goblet was finished, the lizards unlocked her chains and she fell to the ground, coughing violently. She tired standing up, but her hands failed and she slipped back down. The nectar's effect was starting to emerge. Her muscles felt weak as she tried to roll herself onto her back and get up. The moment she raised her head, the world started spinning. The music became louder and distorted and yet it sounded so distant. The commentator's words started blurring into the miasma of smells.

Smells don't sound.

But sounds do see.

And the lights shifted around her. Oh, such colors, they sounded like the songs of phoenixes and tasted like sugar canes and cocoa. Alex smiled and her smile stretched out into infinity, barely contained by her bone structure.

She looked at the other corner of infinity and there stood a gargantuan beast. A towering dragon, pigmented with the sun's blessing, eyeing her down, his entire body shifting like mercury.

Her enemy was the dragon.

And she was the knight. Ready to slay the awful beast.

The black knight, wearing the banner of the silver moon, she stepped forward and the earth shook.

The dragon opened its maw and the sky trembled.

This was her journey. To slay the dragon and rescue her fallen comrade.

She got into her battle stance, her inner fire pouring out, and she charged forward, her fist the weapon of gods.

Time was fluid.

Bending.

Contorting.

Fluctuating.

Her steps become dragged, although her momentum only grew.

The dragon, the wretched creature was liquid. It twisted around her strike, its numerous tentacles grabbing her torso, picking her up into the heavens and casting her down.

Her luciferian descent into the abyss was eternal and yet when she reached the bottom of the pit, her whole existence shattered.

Her consciousness spread throughout the universe, she summoned up all her might to pull herself back together.

Her molecules desperately rearranging themselves back into the form she knew, her essence the gravitational core, as dimensionless as a dot, but as dense as super massive black whole.

She breathed once again. The breath of life burning her lungs to a crisp. The newborn moondancer awakened.

She slithered up from the chthonic slumber and rose once more, the seas of creation her battleground.

But the beast was towering.

The Above-all.

Fear was her manna. And she scuffed down on it.

She jumped forward, reaching the heights of the welkin, striking the beast in its jaw.

The piercing cry ripped hyper-space apart.

It flew back, falling towards the primal ocean.

His tail became the rainbow of the universe.

But the battle was not done.

As she flew, Helios and Luna her witnesses, the dragon rocketed back up at her.

His wings were thunder.

His strike was lightning.

His entire strength was poured into Tieferet.

Her muscles liquefied around the fist, a cast of molten flesh.

Her Kundalini unable to keep her corpus straight.

She curled inwards, the self-consuming Ouroboros.

 And the air than so burned her when she woke up, now left her scorching Oceanus, vaporizing the primeval chaos.

And with the leave of air, her insides froze, a body lacking insides.

Her soul confined to a shell.

But the dragon was not done.

The incestuous ur-rape.

His slithering tentacles breaching her.

She howled.

Not from pain.

Nor from joy.

She howled in her defeat.

And with one final toss, he impaled her unto the world tree.

Once more, all life which resided in her left her.

She gasped for prana.

But there was none in the void.

So she filled the void with what little she had left.

Her air, the air of the worlds.

Her spit, the deluge.

Her body, the land.

And her fainting consciousness, she gave away freely to warm the world.

The Chaoskampf was over.

She had lost.

But she became all that is.

Smiling, she welcomed the blackness.

But the Moirae were not done weaving her tale.

The sound of ten thousands demonic legions filled her empty skull.

He came riding on an infernal horse of iron, leaving behind a trail of smoke and ash.

The true trickster.

He grabbed her cadaver, pulling her away just as the dragon had claimed his victory, and lifted her up into the heavens once more.

The music of the angels played and she faded into the great nothingness.

#

“Hey. Hey. Wake up."

Alex opened her eyes to the burning light of the sun and all she saw was smoke. She tried speaking but the dryness of her mouth prevented her from doing so.

“Here."

A cigarette was violently pushed into her mouth. The tobacco didn't help. But now she felt like home.

She stood up, still dizzy, trying to get a sense of her surroundings.

“Drink. You need it." Lance said, handing her a tin cup of water.

The moment her tongue touched the liquid, she realized how thirsty she had been. She drank it down in a few seconds and demanded more.

“You…you feeling alright, champ?" Vincent asked.

“I…what happened?"

“You got a bit clobbered." He answered. “Lance said that you fought for me in a duel. Which was pretty sweet on your part, thank you. Sadly, you lost. Zan suplexed you into the ring. You got up. Uppercut him. He fell. And then as you stood, motionless. He just punched you in the guy. Like…really hard. He lifted you up even. The way he described it was quite gruesome. You instantly bent over, your cheeks puffed out, your eyes wide open and bulging. You looked like a fish. Your mouth fell open in the stupidest expression. It was like a fish out of water. Zan then grabbed you by the crotch and threw you onto the corner post, where you continued to howl as all air left you. And you continued to look like an idiot. He swore that he could see you wrapping around the post, trying to push yourself up, but apparently that made things worse. It was like you were made of jelly and the post was almost poking out of your back. But considering him, he might have just gone a bit overboard with the description."

Lance spat.

“Be grateful. I saved both of your lives there. As Zan was gloating, I rode in on my bike, grabbed you and the wolf and rode away."

Alex looked around.

“Are we at the oasis?"

“Sure." Vince answered, smoke coming out of his mouth. “It's gonna take those guys some time till they recover and set out. We're grabbing our money and heading out. Lance said he'll give us a lift to the nearest town."

Alex turned towards Lance with a questioning expression.

“Ain't nothing to it."

“Yeah…thanks…" Alex said, rubbing her head.

“So…" Vincent began as he started digging under a tree. “What did you see while on the mushroom wine? I saw everybody as skeletons. But like, not scary skeletons. Fun skeletons."

“I…" Alex began, the memories of her experience slipping by her now. “I think I saw a dragon? I guess?"

“Huh..." Vince stopped digging. “What's a dragon?"

“I'm not quite sure." She answered before downing her water and getting up to help Vincent.